Just having the most difficult time writing this new short story. I completely dismantled it last night after discovering much of my research (into a speculative situation, but still) was no good. When I got on the right track, it meant reorganizing the whole thing. I suppose it's a good thing in the end, I think I like it more than I did before, but it was brutal. I plan on sending this one out to a variety of magazines, not just strictly sci-fi ones.
The poster children for Don't Try This At Home. As a result, the victim will be forced to wear a black leather robotic breathing suit.
The family stuff lately... just awful. The ties that bind, I guess, until they strangle you. I see a lot of people with blogs writing about very personal stuff and it seems to work for them, and I just can't bring myself to do it, no matter how much I want to. It's just too hard.